


Stairwell Confessions

by Clare_nightly



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clare_nightly/pseuds/Clare_nightly
Summary: Minor Troubled Blood references, but no plot spoilers!Robin and Strike have a sit down on the stairs.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	Stairwell Confessions

Strike moved up the stairs slowly, his body heavy with exhaustion. The day had been a long, unsuccessful one of surveillance, and he desired nothing more than a hot shower and a few beers. To his surprise, Robin was sitting on the landing of the stairs outside of their office, a tumbler of whisky in her hands. She had the distinct impression of waiting for someone, and his spirits lifted at the thought that maybe that someone was him.  
When she didn’t say anything at the sight of him, he began to worry. “Everything all right?” Upon closer inspection, he noticed that her face was tear-stained. 

“Matt and Sarah’ve married,” she stated flatly, staring at the cracked wall outside their office. She could feel him staring down at her, but she resisted the urge to look back, taking a sip of whisky instead. It was embarrassing enough to have been caught. 

He grunted, and to her surprise, she found him sliding down awkwardly to the floor, settling next to her with a wince. She averted her gaze from his leg, which was splayed out in an uncomfortable position. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asked, slightly incredulous at her tears, and if he was honest, a little angry, as he adjusted his prosthesis. “To be free from that twa-Matt?” he finished, barely managing to cover his preferred name for her ex. Their shoulders were just touching, and this pleased him more than it should have, the emotion mixing strangely with the anger he felt. 

She sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes and making a move to stand. “God, yes. It’s just, I don’t know. . .” He waited, staring at the wall along with her. Her chest was aching powerfully, so much so that she could feel the heaviness each time she took a breath. She leaned back into the wall. 

“I don’t miss Matt. I don’t. I don’t miss the subtle put-downs, the constant criticism, the silent judgement I had to face every goddamn night I came home, or didn’t come home from work.” she paused, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “But it’s so fucking hard to see them together, happy, and--I just--,” She looked up at him, wishing, not for the first time, that things were different, that the risk associated with a relationship with Strike could be removed, forgotten, put out of sight. Just his presence alone on this cold stairwell, his warm shoulder pressing into hers, was already causing the sadness to lessen. With the pain in her chest becoming unbearable, she took a leap. “I’m tired of being alone, Strike,”

Strike said nothing, lost in thought as he was of the night he blacked her eyes, and the two of them, alone in the office. There was something else in her statement, something beyond mere loneliness, that implied frustration. But frustration at what? At him? Was he the one she wanted to fill the emptiness in her life? Despite the sudden lightness in his chest, he wasn’t sure he was up for that. The agency was still young, still growing, and the agency was everything. His life’s work. 

And yet--he couldn’t bear the thought of someone else coming along, taking her on dates, making her smile, someone else that could--and would--do everything in their power to win her. In his mind, he could picture another Matt, someone who had a steady job, who remembered birthdays and anniversaries, who made her tea when she was working. Anger filled him, and he felt himself clench his fists. Don’t be a tit, he thought to himself. 

“I-I think I am too,” He whispered, his voice rough with the thought of Robin and another. Quickly, before he could talk himself out of it, he put his arm around her, and pulled her close. After a brief hesitation, Robin leaned in, breathing in the cigarettes and lavender aftershave he’d take to wearing more often. It felt more natural than it should have. She looked up at him, and smiled softly.

“Partners, yeah?” she asked quietly, hopefully. His heart did something akin to flying. 

“Partners.” he agreed, and leaned down to press his forehead to hers.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic ever! I’ve so enjoyed reading the works in this fandom, and I finally decided to add one of my own. Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
